Twice Upon a Time
by Hot n' Exotic
Summary: AU. Suze Simon and her family move into a scenic little town where the eldest son of the rejected Spanish family catches her eye. Will their attraction grow into something more beautiful or will society's dominating clutches keep them apart forever? JS.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Just an idea that popped into my head (obviously). :)**

**Anyway, this chapter is dedicated to **_**I want to be Jesse's girl**_** who poked me awake from my dormancy. Thanks. :D**

**Have fun, all of you. :D**

--

It was beautiful, I must admit.

The thick oaks beside the road dappled the mellow afternoon sunlight and the scent of honeysuckle floated in through the rolled down windows as our car glided along.

Of course, the absence of the horning that I was so used to was slightly disturbing, if soothing. Back home in New York, you couldn't be in a car a minute without being horned at.

Voicing my thoughts, my stepbrother, Brad exclaimed, "This place is so freakin' _quiet_. What, are we going on pilgrimage or something?"

Rolling my eyes, I answered, "Uh, Brad? People only go on pilgrimage if they're religious. Something which you definitely aren't. Unless you call worshipping Hulk Hogan a type of religion."

Jake, my eldest stepbrother, sniggered. "Yeah, and where'd you learn the word _pilgrimage_ from, anyway, Brad?"

"Shut up, homo," Brad said and, as expected, a tussle followed.

"Boys! Boys!" my mom shouted from the passenger seat in front.

With a little pinching and hair-pulling on my part and a little more shouting on my mom's part, the two were finally separated.

"There it is!" suddenly cried my stepfather, Andy, from the driver's seat. "That's our new house, kids! We're home!"

Jake, Brad and I rolled our eyes, sceptic. 'Home' was definitely not the word we would associate with this freakishly quiet and clean and green place we had moved to after living our whole lives in the big city.

"David," I said shaking my youngest stepbrother awake. "Wake up. We're there already."

"Hmph…what? We're there?" His voice held a kind of reproach in it, like he didn't want to reach our new house and finally accept the idea that we were not living in New York anymore.

"Yeah," I sighed and got out of the car. Once outside, I rolled my neck around, trying to relax my stiff muscles. With David's head on one shoulder the whole way and Jake's head on the other, part of the way, my neck had a serious case of cramps now.

After stretching, I looked around. Our Land Rover was parked inside the garage, which a gravel drive led up to. Beside the gravel drive was just…grass. And not the buzz cut-like, short grass which you get on soccer fields. This was real grass. Deep green, ankle-tickling grass. A single huge oak tree completed the country picture.

The house was…a lot bigger than our four bedroom apartment back in New York. It was a beautiful, two-storey, chestnut colored Victorian house. The window sills, shutters and roofs were a darker chocolate brown and the porch wrapped itself around the whole house.

'_At least we get to have our own bedrooms with private baths now,'_ I thought, sighing and picking up the backpack at my feet.

I had once read that it was good for health to be optimistic.

--

The ring of the doorbell broke us from our unpacking. Coming out of my room, I bounded down the wooden stairs and peeked down from the landing.

Amid all the FedEx guys carrying sofas and cabinets, Andy and my mom stood welcoming an aged couple in. I watched the old woman hand Mom a basket with a few loafs of homemade bread in it.

I raised my eyebrows. Homemade bread? We really were far far away from home.

They chatted a little, and then Mom raised her voice and shouted up, "Kids! Come down, we have visitors!"

I went down and stood next to Mom and Andy, shaking hands with the couple.

"Ah! What is your name, young lady?" asked the old woman, squinting at me.

Blushing at her over-enthusiastic greeting, I replied, "My name's Suze, ma'am. Short for Susannah."

"Oh, please," she huffed, waving her pudgy hand. "None of this 'ma'am' business. You call me Auntie Becca. Everyone around does. And this," she said, pointing at the man beside her, "is my husband, Tom. You call him Uncle Tom.

I blinked. "Um, okay…Auntie Becca," I replied awkwardly, tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear.

She gave me a rosy, dimpled smile which made me wonder how many hearts she had broken as a young woman.

"She looks a lot like you, Helen," she told my mother and I noticed that they were already on first name basis.

'_Small town'_, I thought. '_Figures_'

I stood a little aside as my three stepbrothers were introduced to them – I had a hard time keeping myself from laughing when _Auntie Becca_ enveloped Brad in between her small arms and not-so-small bosom – and then came in when they started talking again.

"You kids are goin' to have a great time here," said Uncle Tom. "A little fresh air and sun never did no harm to children. Unlike those dirty, noisy cities."

"Yes, yes," agreed his portly wife. "You will soon make a lot of friends here. Lots of children here of your age."

"Of course, you gotta stay away from those furners," added the old man.

We raised our eyebrows. "Uh, _furners_?" Mom asked.

"Yeah, you know those funny people from different places," replied Uncle Tom, waving his arm.

"Oh! You mean _foreigners_?" said Andy, blond eyebrows raised.

"Yeah, yeah, furners."

"Oh, um…where are they from? What's wrong with them?" asked Mom.

"Where're they from, again, Becca? Oh yeah, Spain. Spanish furners, they are. Funny Spanish furners," replied Uncle Tom in his nasal twang.

Brad snorted. I nudged him with my elbow to keep him quiet.

"You kids don't ever mix with 'em. You stick with good ol' American kids," continued Uncle Tom.

I suddenly lost whatever amount of respect I had for the old couple. I mean, how racist can anyone get? We were in the twenty-first century, for God's sake! People didn't hate each other for their nationality anymore!

Apparently, my family was thinking the same thing, from the looks of their false polite expressions.

Then, however, something Auntie Becca said caught our attention.

"The Lord knows what that family did to those poor people a few years ago. Damned the named of this beautiful town, they did!" she said emotionally.

Her husband was nodding his head solemnly. "Yeah, yeah…" he muttered under his breath.

There was an awkward silence as the old couple were lost in their thoughts and my family and I shifted from foot to foot glancing at each other nervously. I looked at Jake. He shrugged at me helplessly, no doubt waiting eagerly for this weird pair to walk out so we could talk about normal stuff and not 'funny furners'.

At last, the two of them broke out of their daze. "Sorry, it's just that most of us folks who've been around here for some time knows what happened and we tend to get a little emotional about it. You children don't need to worry. Just avoid those Spanish children at school and outside you won't be seeing them anyway since they don't live near here," Auntie Becca said.

We smiled uncertainly at them, noticing the way they avoided telling us what exactly happened to earn this Spanish family their bad reputation.

"Well, goodnight, all of you. Helen, if there's anything you need, don't hesitate to drop by – we live right next door in a white hut you can't miss. Goodnight."

With one last wave, they walked out the door, skirted around the two delivery trucks and disappeared into the mesmerizing dusk.

I thought about their warning. At first, I had thought they were just a couple of paranoid, old people stuck in the old ages. But what Auntie Becca had said afterwards…it had been a little scary.

Who was this Spanish family? What had they done to gain so much hatred from the town's natives?

Suddenly, I couldn't wait to see these mysterious funny _furners_.

--

**A/N: Please review!**


	2. Chapter 2

First days of school are always the same. There's always the same tight feeling of your insides twisting in fear and anticipation. Always the dark circles under your eyes from tossing around in bed the previous night. Not to mention, the slightly nauseous reluctant feeling mixed with a contradictory curiosity as to what this new alien planet would hold for you.

It was no different for me.

On Monday morning, two days after we had moved into our new home, as I stood in front of the bathroom mirror, I couldn't help but groan in frustration. My usually bright green eyes were slightly bloodshot and there were faint dark circles under them, giving me the look of a human halfway through the process of morphing into a panda.

I had actually been planning on not looking like a certain species of endangered bear on my first day of school.

Sighing dejectedly, I quickly got my toiletries done, making a mental note to get Andy to get a plumber to fix the shower which gave out only a lukewarm trickle of water. Not so good for early in the morning in a generally cool place.

After wolfing down a quick breakfast of a single chocolate cupcake from the fridge, I quickly said bye to my ecstatic mom and hurried outside to the car. Brad was snoozing at the back and David was reading something beside him. Jake was sitting at the driver's seat, drumming his fingers impatiently on the steering wheel.

"What took you so long?" he asked me, annoyed, as I got into the seat beside him.

I raised my eyebrows at him and pursed my lips.

"Never mind. Don't answer that," he said hastily and turned away, muttering something under his breath, out of which I caught the word 'girls'.

Rolling my eyes, I buckled the seatbelt and arranged my bag on my lap into a more comfortable position. Then, as the car started moving along the driveway, I rolled down the window and took a deep breath of the rush of clean, cool air.

Asking Jake to slow down a bit (which he grudgingly did), I stared out the window. During the past couple of days, I hadn't had the chance to get out much because of all the unpacking left to do in the house. Now that I was out, I got my first real good look at the town, trying to take in all the details.

The sun was glowing above the treetops, tiny streams of light finding their way through the holes between the emerald green leaves. The grass beside the road was cut short but I could see it growing longer and longer in the distance. Wild flowers growing amid the spread of thick oak roots danced in the light morning breeze.

We drove along the smooth, dark grey road, the silence punctured only by Brad's loud snores. Even though the environment outside was as peaceful as it could get, I could feel the slight tension in the air. My stepbrothers and I were all anxious to find out what the kids here were like.

Questions drifted through my head. What were the children in my grade like? Were they prejudiced against city people? Would my snug little white tee and denim jacket with my black capris be considered overdressed according to small town standards? Did small town people even _wear_ black?

As we pulled up in the parking lot of the red brick building that was our new school, I dismissed those thoughts. Who cared, anyway? I hadn't exactly been Miss Popular at my old school. My only friend in all my sixteen years in New York City was Gina. My only and best friend. So it didn't really matter whether people here liked me or not. I was used to being invisible.

Walking into the building, trying to ignore the stares of the other kids, I could almost forget all my fears. But my one object of curiosity, a matter which had been tickling me all through the weekend, could not fade out as easily.

I couldn't forget the enigmatic Spanish 'furners' who I was going to see for the first time today.

--

First period Math was turning out to be as boring as I had expected it to be. Seriously, who would ever want to do loci at nine in the morning? If _I_ ever had the responsibility of making timetables for high school students, I would make sure not to put any subject starting with the letter M first thing in the morning.

Just as I was about to fall asleep, something poked my shoulder. Looking up, I saw a girl with the whitest of white skins, matching white, stick straight hair, and peculiar but pretty violet eyes looking at me. She discreetly passed a piece of folded paper onto my desk, and then turned her attention back to the balding teacher in front.

One eyebrow slightly raised, I took the paper and unfolded it.

**My name is CeeCee Webb. Want to sit with me at lunch?**

Now _both_ of my eyebrows were raised. Pulling my pen out of the spiral ring of my notebook, I turned the paper over and wrote:

_**Hey, CeeCee. I'm Suze. But you already know that from the introduction old Baldy there made me give. Sit with you at lunch...what's the catch?**_

She read my message quickly and, tearing off another piece of paper from the notebook, scribbled a few lines and then threw it over to me. Opening it, I read:

**Haha. Baldy. I'm the editor of the school newspaper. I think an article on NYC would create some interest in it. **

Ha. I knew it. I mean, why would anyone ask _me _to sit by them at lunch _just like that?_ Still, she had been honest. Not being a pretend friend and then ditching me once she'd gotten her information.

Glancing over at her, I saw her looking at me sideways, her slender, white eyebrows raised in a very business-like manner. Turning back to the paper, I wrote below her message:

_**Sure.**_

A huge smile broke across her face once she opened up the paper. She looked at me, this time her smile devoid of any business-like edge in it. I offered her a half-smile and then brought my head down to the desk, resting it upon my arm, and drifted off into a light doze.

--

It was lunchtime.

I was waiting for CeeCee outside that same classroom in which we had had first period Math, again trying to ignore the way the other kids would stare at me as the passed by on their way to the cafeteria.

Seriously, what was with these people? At first, I had thought that my mascara was smudged or my hair was sticking out of the high ponytail I had tossed it into. But one visit to the toilet had told me that nothing was wrong with my appearance. Even the dark circles weren't all that visible because of the foundation I had stolen from my mom's vanity this morning.

And, just in case, I had also turned around and checked my back. Nope. No 'I AM A BITCH' sign stuck there.

Yes, I _had _noticed that my clothes and bag looked slightly more expensive than my classmates', and if that was the reason for the staring then I would definitely have to remember to wear my non-designer stuff from the next day onwards.

Anything for the staring to stop.

Sighing impatiently, I glanced at my watch again. Where the hell was she? I was getting hungry too. One cupcake was _not_ enough to last me until lunchtime.

Finally, she came bouncing – yes, bouncing – into view, a boy trailing behind her.

"Hey, Suze! Sorry to keep you waiting, our Chem teacher wouldn't let us out," she said breathlessly. "This--" she continued, pointing at the guy beside her, "—is Adam. Adam, Suze."

The boy offered me a wide friendly smile, mischief twinkling in his hazel eyes. "It's great to meet you at last, Suze. Been hearing about you all morning," he said. His voice was not masculine or deep but it had a youthful playfulness in it which suited him and made me like him at once.

At hearing his statement, I raised my eyebrows. "_Me?_" I asked, trying to hide my incredulity.

His mouth widened into an impish grin, "Yeah, you. And your brothers."

My brow furrowed in confusion. Glancing from CeeCee to Adam, I asked, "Um…why _us?_"

"Well, its not often we have people from outside the town join us. And New York City is just…fascinating," Adam answered matter-of-factly.

"And," he continued, glancing slyly at CeeCee, "looks like you've already met your fan number one."

CeeCee punching his arm playfully. "Shut up. I just think it'll be good publicity for the newspaper. Anyway, let's get going before lunchtime is over," she said, and started making her way down the hall.

Adam grinned at me and started after her, making a 'c'mon' gesture with his hand. I followed, smiling at the two of them.

_Maybe,_ I thought, _I wouldn't be all that friendless after all._

Entering the cafeteria, we quickly chose a table in the corner and took out our food and started eating. Holding her cheese sandwich in one hand and her pen with the other, CeeCee asked, "So, Suze, tell us about New York. What are the differences between there and here? Similarities?"

After ten minutes of questioning, CeeCee was finally satisfied. Contently leaning back on her chair and munching on her sandwich, she asked, "So, Suze, how do you like it here?"

I shrugged, picking a mayonnaise-sodden lettuce out of my sandwich. "It's…cleaner and a lot more peaceful in here. But I don't know how I'm going to stand driving four hours before I can get to the nearest store selling Maybelline lip gloss," I answered.

CeeCee giggled and Adam rolled his eyes good-naturedly.

"I know. I need to get special makeup – being albino and all – and it's really frustrating, having to drive so far just to buy one pot of lip gloss. That's why, lately I've just given up applying _any_ makeup," CeeCee said.

"Well, you still look as good to _me_," said Adam.

CeeCee blinked and turned slightly pink. I raised my eyebrows, but kept quiet. Something was going on in there. Although, Adam's voice had sounded mostly friendly, I'd heard a bit of something else in it.

I suppressed my smile.

Taking advantage of the silence that followed Adam's comment, I looked around huge cube of a cafeteria, seeing if any of my stepbrothers shared lunch with me.

I found both Jake and Brad sitting at different tables. I was not surprised to find a very 'booty-ful' blonde girl almost hanging off Brad. She was so obviously flirting with him that I couldn't help but snort at her antics.

Pointing her out to Adam, I asked who she was. He laughed.

"I see your brother's—"

"Stepbrother," I corrected.

"--already got his hands on the hottest girl in school. That's Kelly Prescott," Adam told me.

"Resident slut," added CeeCee.

I shook my head to myself. Trust Brad to get his hands on a couple of brainless dolls, first thing in a new place. That guy was _beyond_ shallow.

Looking at Jake, I was a lot more satisfied. He was sitting with a group of kids who looked popular and, at the same time, sensible. A good-looking, smart, and a little over-confident group. Just like Jake.

Feeling a lot more at ease, now that I had a few friends, I sighed contentedly. My eyes continued drifting over the throngs of children, trying to discern the different cliques.

Scanning over the various heads, my eyes finally landed on two dark ones. For reasons unknown even to me, my breath caught. There were two of them. A boy and a girl. Both of them had glossy black curls and beautifully olive skin.

Suddenly breathless, I interrupted the conversation CeeCee and Adam were having. "Guys, who're they? Those two in the corner," I said, pointing subtly at the pair.

Turning to see who I meant, CeeCee's cheerful face immediately hardened.

"Oh, those are just the two eldest de Silvas," she said, waving her hand in a 'whatever' gesture. "Jesse and Marta de Silva. You'll be seeing Jesse around. He's in your English class after lunch."

"Oh," I said, trying to keep my tone light. The 'furners' at last. The mystery surrounding them was almost delicious. I knew I wouldn't be satisfied until I knew why exactly they were so hated.

"How many are there?" I asked back.

"Four…or was it five, Adam?" CeeCee said, distractedly, rifling through the notebook on which she had noted my answers about NYC.

"Hmm? Oh, there are five of them, I think. Jesse's the eldest and the rest are girls," replied Adam.

Obviously, they were already over the subject. I frowned, confused.

I was about to ask them why everyone seemed to hate them so much when the two de Silva siblings got up and made their way to the door, the girl in front. Unconsciously, my eyes followed them, or to be more precise, the boy.

He was handsome, no doubt. Not in the pretty boy kind of way or even the geeky cute kind of way that Adam was. His tall, muscular form emanated masculinity and intelligence. He wasn't even muscular in the beefy way that Brad was. As one of his hands came up to adjust the strap of his backpack on his shoulder, I noticed how large and tendony it was.

When they reached the door, the sister, Marta, pulled open the door and went out. Her brother, Jesse, had reached out over her head and grabbed hold of the side of the door, holding it open.

Then, with one foot already outside the room, maybe sensing someone's eyes on him, he suddenly turned and locked eyes with me. No warning, nothing. He just turned to look at me, his dark gaze suddenly making my ears burn.

And a second later, without any change in his indifferent expression, he turned away and disappeared just as suddenly as he had turned to look at me.

--

**A/N: I hope it's better than the previous chapter which, I just realized, was one sucky piece of writing. :)**

**Please review!**


	3. Chapter 3

I cracked one eye open. Then slowly, I opened the other one, testing to see if they fell shut again.

They didn't.

Sighing, I gave up the idea of sleep, and sat up. Stretching, I looked at the digital clock on my bedside table. It read 5:15 AM.

I rolled my eyes and snorted to myself. 5:15 was _not_ the time to get up on a Saturday morning. It just wasn't right. At least not for me.

Putting my pillow up against the headboard of my bed and leaning back on it, I stared out the huge bay window in front of my bed. The single oak tree in our front yard took up half of the view. The other half was painted in with the slowly swaying treetops of the woods in the distance. Their eternal movement never failed to make me curious as to what lay beyond them. They were like curtains, opening up to what was behind them but closing up again before I could barely glance in the direction.

Suddenly, I had the urge to go out and explore those woods. Maybe go for a morning run there. Again, I wondered what was going on with me. First, I was up before the sun on a Saturday morning, and then I have the urge to go for a morning run in the woods. This place really _was_ changing me.

Getting out of bed, I brushed my teeth, quickly ran my hairbrush through my hair and changed my lumpy sweats for a pair of jogging shorts (my _only_ pair, actually). I quickly wrote a short note to my mom and put it on top of my pillow, just in case she came in and found me missing. Grabbing my jacket, I tiptoed down the stairs and quietly slipped out the back door.

Once outside, I jogged around the house and onto the main road in front of the house. Shivering, I zipped up my jacket and pulled up the hood. Cursing myself for wearing shorts, I started jogging slowly down the side of the road.

I was the only one out. There was no sign of life except for the occasional mother bird in search of food. The surrounding silence pronounced the solid _thuds_ of my footsteps on the concrete, creating a restful rhythm for my ears.

I passed Auntie Becca and Uncle Tom's little white cottage and a few other houses until at last I came to an open space. I could see the morning mist hovering just above the longer grass a little way from where I was. The grass in front of me was short but as I jogged down the little dirt path mowed into the grass, it became longer and longer.

Once I entered the woods, I slowed my pace. I walked slowly, looking around the scattering of trees and bushes. The grass had thinned out over here, making my walk a lot easier and peaceful (at least I could see now if there were any approaching snakes).

I was staring a family of squirrels scurry up an oak tree as I was walking, when I suddenly tripped over a rather big stone and landed on the ground on all fours.

"Ow!" I exclaimed, hissing in pain. I changed my position so that I was squatting, and then examined my scraped knee.

It was then that I heard a loud _thump_ near me. _Very_ near.

I jumped up, one hand on my racing heart. And I stared, wide-eyed, at the person standing in front of me.

Because…well, it was none other than Jesse de Silva. Yeah, _the_ Jesse de Silva. The one who made my ears burn unusually the first time he had looked at me.

As it happened, my ears burned this time too.

After some time, I guess he realized I wouldn't speak, so he hesitantly asked, his eyes on my knees, "Are you okay? Were you hurt anywhere else?"

For the first time, a flicker of fear came into me. This was the first time I was there, actually face to face with him. And that too, _alone_. What if the rumors among the town natives actually had some foundation to them? What if he actually was…_bad_?

It must have shown on my face because he suddenly got a weird look on his face. He had this slightly disconcerting way of looking directly into my eyes, as if he could read my innermost thoughts.

Forcing apart my lips which were suddenly stuck together, I croaked, "I…um…yeah, I'm—I'm fine. Just a scratch."

He didn't say anything. As we stared at each other again, I thought I saw something like amusement shimmering somewhere in his deep, brown eyes. Then, with a small nod, he turned around and started walking away.

And the words, which were temporarily confiscated from me, came back. I couldn't let him go just like that. Not when I had this excellent chance to get to know him better. Maybe even solve the mystery of their infamousness in the town.

"Hey!" I called.

He froze. Slowly he turned around and faced me, one long inky eyebrow raised curiously.

My brain whirring, as I desperately tried to make up something to make him stay, I asked, "Where'd you come from?"

His wide lips quirked slightly. He gestured above with his eyes. I followed his gaze and caught sight of the thick long bough of the oak we were under.

"Oh," was everything I could say. God, when would he _speak_?

"So…umm…what's your name? I saw you around at school and everything but we never really spoke…" I trailed off. I could feel my face heating up. I mean, how lame could anyone get? And I had never been so forward with anyone. It was always Gina who was inquiring after people back in New York. Never me.

A small smile graced his striking features. "I'm Jesse de Silva. Yes, I _did_ see you around school too. You're in my English class, aren't you?"

Oh. So he _had_ noticed. I don't know why, but that piece of information suddenly made me feel very happy.

"Yeah," I answered, unconsciously smiling shyly. "I'm Suze Simon."

To my utter surprise, he wrinkled his nose. "Suze? Can't I call you anything else?" he asked.

I blinked. Tucking my hair behind my ear (it was a nervous habit of mine), I replied, "Well, Suze is short for Susannah, so…you can call me that…"

He seemed to consider it. "Hmm…yes, Susannah. I like that. Susannah." He gave me a lopsided grin.

I couldn't help but laugh. Such level of frankness was very refreshing.

Soon after, we lapsed into silence again. He looked at me with that same mysterious little smile. I tucked my hair behind my hair unnecessarily, my eyes jumping from place to place.

At last, he broke the silence. "What're you doing out here alone so early?"

I raised my eyebrows. "I could be asking _you_ the same thing."

He smiled slightly. "I was just reading on that bough. I couldn't sleep," he said.

Looking down at his hands, I noticed for the first time a thick tome and a mini flashlight in them.

"Oh. I couldn't sleep either," I confessed. "What book are you reading, by the way?"

He held it up. "Critical Theory since Plato," he said.

This time, it was my turn to wrinkle my nose. "Critical theory since _what?_" I mockingly asked.

His smile widened. "The term is 'Plato'. P-L-A-T-O. Plato," he teased me right back.

I giggled. "Okay, I'm out of comebacks. You win."

He ran his hand through his thick raven hair, looking around suddenly. "Hey, you want to watch the sunrise? Its coming up anytime now," he asked.

My eyes widened excitedly. "Yes! I've never seen a sunrise before," I told him.

One of his eyebrows went up. "Never?" he asked disbelievingly.

I shook my head, confirming it. "Nope. Not one."

"Come on, then. I'll show you your first one," he said, gesturing for me to come closer.

I hesitantly stepped towards him. Suddenly, his cool demeanour became a little flustered.

"Uh, can you climb up there?" he asked me, gesturing to the bough he had been sitting on.

My eyes widened. "Umm…no," I squeaked. The only foothold was too high for me to reach and the bough itself was scary high. What? Climbing trees was never my forte.

He sighed and looked at the ground for a second. Then, when he looked at me again, he had that amused little smile playing on his face again.

"Come on then. I'll carry you and you have to put your foot on that little branch jutting out there, okay? Then take hold of the bough and hoist yourself up. Can you do it?" he asked.

I shrugged nervously. "I—I'll try," I said, walking up and standing in front of him facing the tree.

I took a deep breath – this really was freaking me out. I wasn't exactly the most outdoorsy person in the world – and looked up at the huge woody structure in front of me. Before I had time to do more than that, I felt Jesse's large warm hands gently grip my waist and the next second I was in the air.

I smiled. I felt like a bird, free and weightless. Jesse's strong arms supporting my whole weight felt so safe and secure that all my worries about falling evaporated. I was so wrapped up in my thoughts that I almost forgot to do what I was supposed to do.

"Susannah," I heard Jesse's voice below me.

"Oh," I said, reaching my right foot out for the little foothold in front.

As soon as I had caught hold of the bough and steadied myself, I disappointedly felt the warmth of his hands leave my waist. Using all the strength in my arms, I hoisted my self up and awkwardly straddled the thick bough. As I rearranged myself into a sitting position, Jesse, with a quick agile movement, climbed up effortlessly and sat beside me.

He smiled at me. "You've never climbed trees before, have you?" he teased me.

I rolled my eyes. "Whatever. You don't need to rub it in, you know."

He grinned. Then he pointed to our right with a long tan finger. I followed his hand and my gaze eventually landed on the river at the end of the woods.

My breath caught. The sky above the trees bordering the other bank of the river was pink, slowly giving into an orange hue. The first golden light of dawn filtered through the trees and pooled onto the gently rippling water, making it look like a river of liquid gold. The woods hummed with the first signs of life, providing a relaxing soundtrack for us. I watched, entranced, as in the distance, an otter splashed into the water.

Even as my eyes appreciated the glorious sunrise before me, my mind was on the slight pressure of Jesse's arm touching mine as we sat side by side. It was too much of a distraction. I didn't know why, but his presence next to me made me feel nervous but at the same time, very very happy.

And as the sun finally came up in all its golden glory to reign the sky once more, starting the day, I couldn't help but think it also signified the beginning of something unique and wonderful between Jesse and me.

--

**A/N: Please review!**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Okay, after I received some criticism, I've become a little…well, insecure. So I've really tried to make this one better than the previous ones. Hope you enjoy it. :)**

--

As I plodded down the stairs, I made a quick mental check to see if I had any plans for the day. After raking through my mind, I decided there was nothing I had planned. Quickly, I made up my mind. I knew exactly what I would be doing for the day.

Walking into the kitchen, I saw Andy at the counter, popping bread slices into the toaster and my mom sitting at the table, reading a novel. Saffron Skies, I noted absently on the front cover as I sat down opposite her. Unlike any mom I had ever met, my mom had an unusual obsession with chick lit.

"Mmm, nice shampoo, honey," my mom murmured, delicately sniffing the air and her eyes never leaving the book.

I made a little acknowledging sound and then started, "Do any of you know where the library is?"

My mom lowered her book, looking at me with her eyebrows raised. "Yeah, it's opposite that little grocery store we went to yesterday. I forgot to point it out to you. Why?"

I smiled and shrugged, trying to nonchalant. "Oh, just wanted to find a few stuff…" I waved my hand for an effect.

Mom looked slightly confused but she decided to give me the benefit of the doubt. She happily started suggesting a list of good books, overjoyed that I was at last showing some signs of leisure reading. I patiently listened to her all through breakfast, even noting a few interesting titles.

After finishing my breakfast, I hurriedly said goodbye and went to the garage. Wheeling the bicycle out, I got on and cycled down the gravel drive and onto the main road.

Move smoothly along the road, my thoughts drifted to where I had been a few hours ago. This happened to be up in a tree by the river with Jesse. I sighed dejectedly. Nothing had happened. _Nothing. _He hadn't mentioned one word about his family or anything. All we had talked about was ourselves. By the time we had parted, I knew what his favourite movie was but was no closer to knowing anything about his family. For instance, what did his dad and mom do? And the thing was, the more I saw of his reserved nature, the more I became attracted to him and the enigma surrounding him. It was annoying, even to me. But what was more annoying was the ticklish reminder of a mystery in the back of my mind.

So, I had decided that if I couldn't get anything out of him or anyone for that matter, I was going to work on it myself. What better place to start than the local library?

Turning the corner, I cycled up in front of the library and leaned my bicycle against the lamppost outside. Turning around I looked at the large imposing building in front of me for a second and then walked up the front steps and entered the lobby.

Except for a couple of old people, the first floor of the library was fairly empty. I walked up to the front desk. The middle-aged woman sitting behind it looked up and smiled at me.

"Morning. Need help?" she asked me cheerfully.

Smiling back at her, I replied, "Yeah, thanks. I was wondering if I could have a look at some local newspapers."

"Well, today's newspapers are right there—"

"Uh…no. I don't want today's newspaper. I was wondering if I could see all the newspapers for the last couple of years…if you have them?" I nervously tucked an imagery strand of hair behind my ear.

She blinked and opened her mouth then shut it. Obviously she didn't have many sixteen-year-olds there on Saturday mornings asking for all the newspapers for the past few years very often.

"Well," she said at last. "Of course, I have the newspapers from the past couple of years. I'll show them to you." An expression of pride took hold of her face. "Took my librarian's degree from up at Dartmouth, whatddaya expect? This town's lucky I love it in here. Been living here since I was ten," she informed me matter-of-factly. Even though her words were pompous, the way she said it made it sound fine to me. I didn't find anything boastful in her speech, only amusement.

There was something about the way everyone in this little place talked that made me feel comfortable at once. Maybe it was the way they made you feel as though they had known you for their whole lives when actually they had only met you a minute ago.

Smiling to myself, I followed the tall, stout lady to the second floor. She led me into a snug little corner of the vast hall and told me to take a seat at the little round table there. Ms. Deborah Rayner, as she introduced herself, pulled the heavy velvet curtains apart, making the sunlight pour in and clouds of dust attack my nose.

After I had finished coughing, she gestured towards the huge mahogany shelf beside me. I got up and knelt down beside her.

"Here," Ms. Rayner told me, "are all the newspapers for the past five years. They've been bundled up and grouped according to month and year. Feel free to browse. Call me if you need any help, okay? I'll be right at my desk."

I thanked her and assured her I would call her if I needed any help. As she turned to make her way back down, I quickly debated on whether I should ask her directly about it or not. Just as quickly as the idea had come to me, I banished it. She would most likely get all irritated about it like her townspeople and even send me out of the library. I would just have to work by myself.

Gathering up a bundle of old newspapers in my arm, I walked to the little table and dumped them on it. Then, sitting down, I began a morning of intense research work.

Until noon, I forgot about everything around me, I focussed only on the black print in front of me. The musty smell of old paper and the crunchy sound of turning newspaper enveloped my senses. As the clock ticked on, the sunlight spilling in from the window beside me grew hotter and hotter, until I had to pulling my hair up into a ponytail.

And still, I found nothing which could have been even remotely related to the de Silvas. There had been a few headlines I had just skimmed over, like something about the mayor's daughter getting married, the local farmers protesting against some rule put forth by the mayor, and about some Slaters' house burning down. But nothing about the de Silvas.

Frustrated, I leaned back on the plush chair and let my head loll back over its back. I closed my eyes, listening to the gentle ticking of the huge clock on the wall and just absorbing the warmth of the sunlight coming in through the window.

Why was this so important to me, anyway? I asked myself that question over and over again silently. Checking for an answer, I didn't find one. A reasonable one, at least. All I could come up with was that I was doing it because I hated mysteries. And because I had had a nagging feeling about this topic since the day we had arrived in the town when Auntie Becca had mentioned the Spanish family.

"Hey, hon," said Ms. Rayner, breaking the peaceful stillness of the moment.

I jumped up, surprised. I hadn't heard her footsteps on the carpeted floor. "Hey, Ms. Rayner," I said.

"I brought you something to eat," she said, gesturing at the wrapped up sandwich she had placed on the table and a bottle of water on the floor.

My eyes widened. "Wow, thanks, Ms. Rayner. That was really nice of you," I said, meaning it.

She smiled and pulled out the chair opposite me and sat on it. "Well, I thought you would want something to eat after three hours clamped up in here. What are you doing anyway? Schoolwork?"

I hesitated for a moment, then, seeing her friendly smile, I gave in. Unwrapping my sandwich – Andy was going to kill me. Missing meals at the Simon-Ackerman household was considered almost as serious as flunking a subject at school – I opened my mouth and started speaking.

"Well, no. Not schoolwork. I'm just kinda doing this just like that," I told her. "I wanted to know something about the…well, the de Silvas."

Ms. Rayner's wide smile faltered a little. "The de Silvas? Jesus, you've been sitting here three hours straight on a fine Saturday morning searching up the de Silvas!" she exclaimed, shaking her head.

Not sure whether she was angry or not, I just took a bite of the sandwich and waited for her to continue.

"Why on earth do you want to know about the de Silvas? And even if you do, don't the kids go to your school? The boy's about your age, I think," Ms. Rayner said.

"Uh…well, everyone sort of clams up whenever I mention the topic, the de Silvas including, so I just decided to find out myself," I told her.

She narrowed her eyes. "And why do you want to find out anything about them?"

"Well, I've noticed that people around her kind of…hate them, so I just wanted to know why."

She sighed heavily. "Oh, hon…" her voice trailed off as her eyes got a faraway look in them.

Suddenly, I couldn't take it anymore. I mean what was with these people? I was just asking why they didn't like the de Silvas, nothing else! Why make such a big deal out of it?

Pursing my lips irritably, I burst out, "I really don't get what all this fuss is about. Why can't you just tell me why you guys don't like them? I'm sure it's nothing all that big!"

She looked at me shrewdly. "You're the girl from that new family from New York City, aren't you? I thought you were but then you said you were a Simon…I thought that family was something starting with 'A'…"

I rolled my eyes at her naivety. "Yeah, I live with my mom and stepfather and his sons. They're the Ackermans," I informed her, raising my eyebrows in an isn't-that-obvious kind of way.

A small frown appeared between her eyebrows. I lowered my eyes, blushing. I suppose I was too rude.

"Oh," she voiced at last. "So you _are _from the city. You live in that big house opposite Becca's, don't you?"

"Yes."

She looked at me for a second, as if deciding whether it would be a good idea to open up to me or not. I put on my most innocent eager face.

At last, she sighed and said, "Fine, I'll tell you."

I smirked. Those drama club sessions I had been forced to attend by Gina must have paid off.

"Not all of it, though," she warned, wiping the smirk off my face.

"The thing is something happened in that house of yours a couple of years back and it was very closely connected to the de Silvas. The story spread very fast, until the whole state knew about it. Well, of course it would. The other family connected was – is – very influential. And, well, it gave the town a very bad reputation, it did. Lots of people moved out, leaving the town financially in a very poor state. So most people put the blame on the de Silvas," Ms. Rayner concluded.

I narrowed my eyes curiously. "In the house where we live now? What happened?"

Ms. Rayner chuckled. "That's it. No more. We wouldn't want to drive you out too, would we? We need you rich city folk in here," she added lightly, her eyes twinkling. But something in me said that what she had intended as a joke had some truth in it.

I gave her a half-smile. "Thanks for telling me, Ms. Rayner. And for the sandwich," I said, indicating the crumpled wrapper on the table.

She laughed and waved it off. "Anytime, hon. Now run along and don't let this fine day go to waste. I'll see you around. Bye!" With that, she stood up and walked down to her desk.

I slowly gathered up the messy pile of newspapers on the floor and table and arranged them back neatly and put them away on the shelf. Then I made my way down and, with a last wave at the librarian, I stepped outside into the bright sunshine.

All the while, I was thinking of only one thing. Even Ms. Rayner, who I had known only for a few hours, could say what it was.

--

**A/N: I hope you enjoyed it! I'm sorry for the late update, I had exams (and I still do) but I wanted to get something up. :) **

**And I hope some of you, at least, got the little hint I slipped in there about what happened. :D**

**Please review!**


	5. Chapter 5

"Susannah Simon, you're with Hector de Silva."

My head jerked up just in time to see all heads swivel around to look at me. I blinked slowly. Had I heard her right?

"Um…I beg your pardon, who? I thought you said—" I began.

"Hector de Silva, Miss Simon. Please don't make me repeat myself again and again," our English teacher cut me off, looking faintly annoyed. "Right, now Tina Fox you're with…"

I slumped down in my seat. I couldn't decide whether this was a good idea or not. Doing an English project with Jesse as my partner might just bring my grade up but I didn't know if I could concentrate properly on anything with him there.

I risked a quick glance at him. He was looking down at his textbook, reading intently. But, if I was not mistaken, I could see a faint smile tugging on the corners of his lips. I couldn't decide whether he was smiling at something in the book or he was smiling because we were made partners. I decided not to get my hopes too high and go for the previous reason. Though I couldn't see what was so amusing about _Romeo and Juliet_.

Having nothing better to do while our teacher was announcing the pairings for the project, I continued staring at Jesse – unconsciously, of course. Well, he was a gorgeous sight, who wouldn't? Stare at him, I mean.

The sunlight was spilling in through the window next to him and kneading in and out of his dark waves. The plain white tee he was wearing brought out beautifully his sun-kissed skin. My eyes travelled down his length and traced his long legs which were curled up uncomfortably beneath the small desk.

Suddenly, his smile widened and, before I could understand why, he turned his head and caught my stare. I brought my eyes down to my desk sharply, pursing my lips irritably. Why did he turn around? I was having a good look at him…and he needed to go and spoil it. _It's nothing wrong to look at him_, I thought. _It doesn't mean anything. It's called appreciation of beauty._

On that note, I stood up with my pen in hand and headed over to his desk as our teacher told us to get into our pairs and discuss.

"Hello, Susannah," Jesse said as I approached him. He said it amiably enough but I wasn't a fool. I caught the smirk on his oh-so-kissable lips.

"Hey, what's up?" I said, bringing over a chair next to him and plopping down on it.

He raised a single long eyebrow. I noticed the white scar that slashed straight through its centre and had the sudden urge to reach over and trace it with my finger.

Tearing my eyes away from his eyebrow, I sighed. "Fine, forget about what's up. Shall we get straight into the task at hand?"

He smiled amusedly. I got the annoying feeling that he was laughing at some private joke. A private joke that revolved around me.

For the next five minutes we talked about our project. I was surprised at how easy it was to talk to Jesse. The conversation flowed so smoothly, no awkwardness in it. It was not like me to be able to have a full-fledged conversation with a boy I hadn't known since kindergarten.

Of course it was a little hard not to be distracted by the fact that our knees were touching underneath the desk.

"By the way, you never told me your real name was _Hector_, Jesse," I broke our discussion. I raised my eyebrows slyly. Payback time.

He rolled his eyes at me, the first sign of some emotion other than amusement he had ever directed at me. "And since when did you need to know every single thing about me?" he said, a touch of playfulness in his voice.

That stung a bit. "I don't need to know…but you could've told me…" I grumbled, not meeting his eyes.

"How did you know I was your partner if you didn't know my name?" he asked lightly, after a moment.

I looked up at him. "Duh. Your surname. De Silva," I said, absently drawing a Tic Tac Toe box on the margin of his notebook.

"Hmm," he said, filling in one of the boxes with a cross.

I filled in another one with a circle. Looking up, I saw him looking intently at me.

"What?" I said self-consciously, my hand immediately flying to tuck my hair behind my ear.

"Susannah," he began softly. His dark eyes flickered around us. Looking around discretely, I saw many of our classmates peeking at us. I even noticed our teacher glancing at sideways. Jesse turned back to focus on me. "Susannah, what you hear from…your _friends_ about me….and my family, they're not true," he said, a hint of pleading in his voice.

I looked at him, wide-eyed. Was he actually broaching the big forbidden topic without any pushing from my side?

"What do you mean, Jesse?" I asked, taking care to lower the volume of my voice.

Frustrated, he sighed, running a hand through his thick hair. I noticed how his biceps flexed at the motion.

"What I mean is—"

_Briiing! _

The shrill ring of the bell, indicating class dismissal, cut Jesse off. I almost stamped my foot in anger. Looking at him, I saw the shutters to his eyes were closed once more. His guard was up once again.

His expression giving nothing about our previous conversation – if you could call it one – away, he said, "Meet me tomorrow at that tree where we were last week. We have to get together to work on this assignment." With that, he swept his books off the desk, stuffed them into his bag and walked off.

--

"Who??" CeeCee asked me incredulously after school.

We were in the back of Adam's beat up Chevy truck, parked by the river. The water was olive green, reflecting the trees lining its bank. We heard an occasional splash very now and then, caused by a fish jumping in and out or an otter going in for food.

"Jesse," I repeated patiently, leaning over the side of the pickup truck and plucking out a single long grass.

"As in, _de Silva?_" she said.

"Cee-ee. Yes, de Silva," I said with exaggerated patience.

After a moment of silence, I heard her say, "Wow."

Adam spoke up then. "What's so 'wow' about it?" he demanded. "Guy's a—"

"Adam!" CeeCee cut him off.

"Fine, fine," he grumbled. "All I was asking was what's so great about being paired with him?"

CeeCee looked flustered. "Umm…well, you have to admit he…uh…whatever. Let's go, it's getting dark," she said, climbing down and heading to the front of the truck and sliding into the cab.

Adam looked at me. "Do you know what she meant?" he demanded.

I stifled a giggle. Making wide, innocent eyes, I replied, "Not a clue." Then, I climbed down and headed to the cab too, leaving a confused Adam behind.

When I slid into the passenger seat in front, CeeCee muttered, "Whatever he is, he _is_ hot."

As Adam climbed into the driver's seat grouchily and gunned up the car, I looked out the window and grinned.

'_Yeah, he so is_,' I agreed silently.

--

**A/N: Please review!**


	6. Chapter 6

"Are you tired, Susannah?"

I looked up at Jesse's slightly concerned face and smiled. "Nope. I'm fine, Jesse. What makes you think that?"

He looked at me oddly. "You just closed your eyes and were rubbing your temples for the last two minutes," he informed me, smiling faintly.

I rolled my eyes at him. "Yeah, whatever, Mr. Know-It-All. I'm not tired just…" My voice trailed off.

He raised his eyebrows inquiringly. "Just…?"

I grinned sheepishly at him. "Just sorta…bored." I shrugged helplessly. "This project is just _too_ boring," I complained, stretching myself.

"Well, it _was_ assigned by Mrs. Kendall," Jesse replied lightly. He treated me to a quick grin. "What do you expect?"

I smiled and leaned back against the tree trunk. It had been two days since our English teacher had paired us up and assigned us the project. For the last two evenings, Jesse and I had met under the huge tree where we had first talked, to work on it. For some reason, Jesse had insisted on not going to work at my house and he'd not offered to make his house our workplace.

So, here we were, sitting on the grassy bank of the river with our papers and stationary spread out on the grass. It was our third meeting. During our few hours alone, Jesse had unconsciously confused me even more. I honestly could not see how he could be the object of the whole town's hatred.

I stretched myself onto the grass. Gazing up at the sky which was slowly starting to turn pink, my eyes followed an eagle soaring in all its majesty. Its harsh cries penetrated the relaxed silence between Jesse and I.

"This place is just one big jungle, isn't it?" I remarked, looking at Jesse.

He grinned and absently started playing with a lock of my hair. Even though, it wasn't really skin-on-skin touch since I couldn't feel his fingers on my hair, there was a burning sensation in my chest. I forced myself to retain my casual façade, like I had boys playing with my hair everyday.

"What do you mean, querida?" he asked, his eyes on the lock of brown hair between his thumb and forefinger.

I frowned confusedly. "Hey, come again. What was that you called me?"

A small smile tugged at one corner of his lips. Slowly, he lifted his gaze from my hair and brought it to my eyes. My breath hitched at the intensity of his stare.

"I called you," he said softly. "Querida." He continued holding my gaze, as if challenging me to oppose the Spanish pet name he'd just given me.

I licked my suddenly dry lips, noticing his eyes follow the little movement. "And what does that mean, Jesse?" I asked slightly breathlessly. I couldn't drop my eyes from his. It was like his gaze was a magnet and mine was iron.

Smiling faintly, he shook his head. "That isn't for you to know." After a pause, he added teasingly, "_Querida._"

I pursed my lips. "Why isn't it? I'm the one you're calling that, aren't I?" I inquired, raising my eyebrows in an exaggerated movement.

"Well, let's just say your job is to be flattered I'm calling you that," he said as he got up and dusted himself. He flashed a grin at me.

I raised a sceptical eyebrow. "Oh? You could easily be calling me a bi—"

"Susannah," he cut me off, frowning. Kneeling down on his haunches, he stared at me intently. "I would never call you anything like that, querida. Never think that," he pronounced slowly. Then, I was standing up, before realizing when he'd taken my hands and pulled me up gently.

"Come," he half-whispered. Slipping my cold hand in his large, invitingly warm one, he led me along the river bank.

Gathering my wits, I asked him, "Wh-where are we going?"

"To the dock," he answered simply.

I narrowed my eyes and tilted my head, half-amused and half-sceptic. "The dock?" I asked.

He nodded once. I decided to stay silent and just go along with him. I suddenly felt oddly lady-like, like a lady from long before. Something about the way he held me almost protectively and led the way before me was bewilderingly pleasing.

Soon we reached the dock. It was a small wooden dock built on the water. A few equipment and a single overturned canoe lay on it. Letting go of my hand, Jesse walked to it and turned it over, releasing it from the bounds of some ropes. Soon, he had the boat on the still waters of the river and was gesturing at me to come forward.

I had to laugh incredulously. "Jesse," I said, shaking my head. "We're going _canoeing?_"

He smiled and took my hand, gently propelling me toward the canoe. "Looks like it," he said, helping me onto it. He climbed in himself and took hold of the oars. And then, we were gliding smoothly on the water.

As the little dock grew smaller and smaller, I chewed on my lip and said anxiously, "Jesse, it's soon going to be dark. Do you think we should go now?"

"We'll be back soon, querida. Don't worry," he reassured me, his eyes warm and twinkling.

"And what about our books and stuff? They're still lying there, you know."

"I'll go and collect them afterwards. Nobody goes there. They'll be safe," he replied.

After one last anxious sigh, I settled in to enjoy the tranquillity of the moment. Soon I was lost in the beauty of our surroundings. I watched a couple of pelicans feeding near the bank and the fish jumping in and out of the water playfully. We were serenaded by the crickets and frogs as they started their usual evening songs. As we floated along, I faintly heard someone playing the piano in the distance.

"Like it?" Jesse's deep voice drifted to me.

I turned to look at him dreamily. "Well, you sure don't get sights like this in New York," I answered.

His soft baritone laughter blended in with the natural sounds perfectly. I leaned down and rested my elbow on my knee and then placed my chin on my palm. I watched as he heaved the oars steadily, the tinkling sound of moving water coming with every heave. But with him, it didn't look like he was putting much effort into it. The muscles underneath his sleeves bulged as he manned the canoe.

Feeling my gaze on him, he looked at me. "Susannah?" he called.

Breaking out of my trance, I blinked at him. "Yeah?"

He smiled lopsidedly. "You were just staring at me," he told me.

Blushing, I muttered, "You're not supposed to point that out to me, Jesse."

Grinning widely, he asked, "Why were you staring at me, querida?"

Looking ahead over his broad shoulder, I answered primly, "That's not for you to know. Your job is just to be flattered that I was staring at you."

He burst into laughter. "My God, Susannah. You must've been bursting to throw that back at me," he said between chuckles, shaking his head.

Rolling my eyes at him, I turned my eyes to the picturesque scenery. We came to a stone bridge which was arched over the river. Its watery reflection glittered in the golden rays of the setting sun. We floated below it and continued on our way.

Looking back at Jesse, I saw he was concentrating on the oars. I watched the way he oared with a kind of manly grace. I was sure that any other boy I brought would look out of place in this quietly beautiful backdrop. But his image was perfectly harmonious with the peaceful sounds and sights around us. He was a boy of nature.

"Jesse," I began hesitantly. I wasn't sure whether to broach this topic or not. I had been wondering about it since the day I had met him but I'd never been brave enough to ask him about it.

He looked at me questioningly. I looked at his hands on the oars as I spoke. "I was wondering…do you have a girlfriend?" As soon as the words came out of my mouth I wanted to just jump off the canoe and drown myself from embarrassment.

Forcing myself to look up at him, I saw that the casual smile had left his face. He was staring at me intently. I felt my face grow hotter under his inspection. Finally, after a few moments of silence, he answered lightly, "No, querida. I don't have a girlfriend."

Without thinking, I let out the breath I didn't realize I'd been holding. Hearing it, Jesse raised his eyebrows slightly but said nothing about it, much to my relief.

"Oh," I said, trying to sound offhand. "So…have you ever had one?"

I thought I saw amusement flicker deep inside his otherwise serious eyes. He nodded his head once. I suddenly felt a rush of jealousy towards the girl whom he'd dated. Jealousy and something else…something like possessiveness.

"Oh, who? Do I know her?" I asked in a voice which sounded overly casual even to my ears.

His lips pursed slightly, like he was suppressing a smile. "No, Susannah. You don't know any of _them._"

The last word hit me like a punch to my gut. Before I could help myself, I said accusingly, "_Them?_" As soon as I realized what I'd said, I widened my eyes and burned as hot as the sun. _God, Simon, control yourself. You're acting like a jealous girlfriend, for God's sake!_

Raising his eyebrows, Jesse answered casually, "Yes. But they were all back in Spain."

I narrowed my eyes, despite my flaming face. "Exactly how many girlfriends have you had, Jesse?"

Inside, I was kicking myself. Never talk about exes, had been a major rule in catching a guy according to Cosmo. But at the rate I was going, I was sure I would know everything down to all of Jesse's ex-girlfriends' favourite colors in a few minutes. How desperate could _anybody _sound? Then, suddenly, I realized what I was thinking. When had I planned on making Jesse my boyfriend? Hmm, my mind must've been doing secret homework behind my back.

Jesse was looking at me shrewdly. "Four, Susannah," he answered my question. Then suddenly, grinned.

"What?" I snapped at him, as my embarrassment grew even more.

"You're blushing from head to toe," he said, his grinning even more widely. "I've never seen anyone blush so hard."

That caused me to become even redder. Discretely glancing down at my flip-flop clad feet, I noticed that they were indeed redder than usual. "I'm _not_ blushing from head to toe. I-it's just this problem I've had from childhood. I grow red very easily," I informed him.

He raised his eyebrows in disbelieve and said, "Oh, I've never heard of that…disease," he said lightly. Then he looked at me more seriously. "But, I find it very adorable," he said softly, staring straight into my eyes.

I gulped, looking deep into those obsidian orbs. Something brushed against my cheek and I tore my eyes from Jesse to see what it was. Gasping softly, I realized that we had floated near to the bank and were drifting underneath the branches of a giant willow as they hung low over the water. We were secluded from the rest of the world, divided by a curtain of green.

Looking back at Jesse, I saw he was still gazing at me. A few strands of the last rays of sunlight filtered through the willow leaves and pooled onto his skin and hair, making them glow almost ethereally.

Forcing my parched lips open, I whispered, "It's so beautiful, Jesse. Thanks for showing it to me."

He smiled gently and left the oars. Slowly he came towards my end of the canoe, like a panther stalking its prey as its muscles rippled gracefully. I half-crawled, half-walked forward towards him too, in a kind of trance.

When we were close enough, Jesse reached out and cupped the side of my face in one of his calloused palms. Leaning forward, he stopped when his mouth was a hair's width away from mine, almost like he was asking my permission to kiss me. Instead of answering him, I closed in the rest of the distance and sealed my lips on his.

It was my first kiss ever. I didn't know what to do, but I was determined to make the kiss a good one. Not that I had any previous experience to compare it with. Soon, I decided to not try to make it a mechanically good kiss and just gave myself in to the feelings.

Our lips and tongues mingled and frolicked playfully. Somewhere in the corner of my mind I registered the sound of a couple of beavers playing on the bank beside us. It was like the two of them were the animal version of Jesse and I. I gave a muffled laugh at the delightfulness of everything around me now. Jesse must've heard the beavers too, for I felt him smile against my lips.

Pulling out of the kiss, we leaned our foreheads against each other's. I smiled at him dazedly. Smiling back, he traced the outline of my lips with the pad of his thumb. I closed my eyes and concentrated on the feeling of his skin on my lips.

"Thank _you_, querida," Jesse whispered raggedly.

Opening my eyes, I looked at him questioningly. Answering my look, he said, "For trusting me."

Blinking, I realized that this had been a way to see how much I trusted him. He had brought me somewhere I didn't even know, alone and with no way of escape. And I had followed him without a second thought. I had passed the test. Thinking about it, I realized that not many people in school would have put so much faith in him. In fact, not _anybody_ would have trusted him this much.

I smiled at him and answered, "Jesse, you can trust me to trust you with anything." Then I added slightly flirtatiously, "So you can continue surprising me."

He grinned and relaxed as the topic took a lighter turn. Resting my cheek on his shoulder, I thought about what I had said. They were completely sincere, I realized. I _did_ trust him. _So much_, I thought. And I didn't even know why.

"Jesse," I said, suddenly feeling wicked.

"Yes, querida?" he mumbled into my hair.

"So, tell me, about those girlfriends of yours…"

I could just imagine him rolling his eyes above my head. "Susannah, none of them were serious relationships and—"

"Are you going to add one more to the list?" I cut him off. I could barely suppress my giggle.

He was quiet for a moment and then he tipped my head up by my chin. Looking into his face I saw that he had the beginnings of a grin playing on his lips.

"Do you want me to?" he asked deliberately.

I couldn't keep the giggle back anymore. "Sure. It won't hurt, will it?" I said.

"No," he answered, grinning. "Far from it." Then he leaned down to kiss me once again.

--

**A/N: Please review!**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: A thanks to _Satellite Falling_ for helping me out with a little question for this story. :)**

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Humming dreamily to myself, I sauntered into our living room aimlessly. My stepbrothers were all present – Brad watching WWE; Jake snoozing on the couch with a slice of pizza dangling from his limp hand; and David reading a rather intimidating-looking tome on the floor.

Hearing my humming, Brad and David looked up, bewildered. They looked at me like another head had suddenly spouted from my shoulders. I barely noticed, though. Gingerly extracting the pizza slice form Jake's hand – it was on the brink of falling down and then, it would have destroyed the beautiful Oriental carpet that Mom and I had painstakingly picked out – I placed it in the pizza box on the coffee table – without lecturing him as I usually would have - and then walked over to an armchair and flopped down, staring absently at the TV.

This I, vaguely noticed, caused my two awoken stepbrothers to look even more befuddled. Finally, when I couldn't take any more of their staring – I mean, c'mon, couldn't a girl even _hum_ once in a while? – I turned to look at Brad and said, "You know, you mustn't gape like that. It destroys every shred of intelligence that your face manages to deliver to the general audience." Because I was feeling particularly charitable at the moment, I politely refrained from pointing out that I had never seen his face even _manage_ to deliver a single shred of intelligence.

I guess his astonishment was too great or he didn't really understand what I said, because Brad didn't even take umbrage at my quite direct insult. Instead, he said, "What's happened to _you_? Somebody banged your head or something?"

My dreamy mood gradually vaporising, I raised my eyebrows at him. "What makes you think something happened to me? And I assure you, I am not the one who's banged her head. It's certain other people in this room who seriously need to get checked for birth concussion."

This time it was David who spoke. "Birth concussion?" he said, his eyes narrowing as he, I presumed, rifled through his mental library. "I've never heard of _that_ before. Is it, as the name suggests, a hereditary mental condition in which the patient shows symptoms of concussion, only there is actually no concussion since it's a genetic disease?"

Brad looked from me to David and then, deciding the conversation was way too complex for him, he turned back to the TV.

Sighing – proud though I was, of David's superior intellect and thirst for more knowledge, sometimes, he just needed to _shut it – _I said, "I really have no idea, Dave."

Getting up, I started to walk out of the living room and to my room. At the bottom of the staircase, I paused and looked back at my youngest stepbrother's contemplative frown. "If I were you, Dave, I wouldn't waste my time on it. Since, I'm ninety-nine percent sure that such a disease doesn't even exist. Brad's just plain st—uh…_simple_." With that I marched up the stairs, deciding that a bubble bath was just the thing to restore my dreamy mood.

Of course, the dreaminess was caused by my sublime evening with Jesse. The canoe ride, the extremely romantic kiss – or kisses, to be precise – beneath the willow, his soft whispers of '_querida_'…

I was quite sure that even the prettiest and most popular girls hadn't experienced anything as idealistically romantic. It was too perfect to be true. It seemed like a fairytale.

Accordingly, my hopelessly besotted mind began, _Once upon a time…_

My thoughts were broken, however, as soon as I swung my bedroom door open, stepped inside and closed it. One moment, I just stared.

The next, I groaned loudly. I had been futilely hoping I had gotten rid of it along with my life in New York, thinking that maybe it was the city air that, in some weird way, induced it. But how could I have been so naïve? Of course it would come back to, literally, haunt me. No, not come back. It had always been there and would always be there. Because it was inside me.

It was my accursed ability to see the dead.

Yeah, I must've forgotten to mention that. You see, I'm what you call a mediator. I can see, communicate and even touch the dead. In fact, they're as good as living to me. Of course, other than the fact that I can't kill them. Duh.

In New York, my room had been a sort of Grand Central Station for ghosts. They came and went as they wished, without invitation. My job was to listen to them about what was holding them back in this world and then to fix it and so help them ascend to heaven or go on to their next life or whatever.

It was a generally troublesome job, requiring a lot of sneaking around at the dead of the night, nasty bruises and broken arms and…an occasional visit to the police station. This accounted for my lack of enthusiasm regarding the 'job' and my pleasure at not meeting a single ghost since moving to the country.

Until now. Because the curly-haired boy sitting on my bed was _definitely_ a ghost. I had seen that slightly translucent body texture and that ethereal glow too many times before to have a doubt.

My groan interrupted his deep contemplation of the comforter and he turned to look at me. A small smile alighted on his face. "Hello," he said in a thin boyish voice. "You must be the mediator."

_There goes my evening_, I thought wearily. Romance was just _not_ written in my stars.

"Yeah, I'm the mediator," I said, walking over to the other side of the four-poster bed, where he was sitting. I leaned my shoulder against the bedpost and crossed my arms in front of my chest, scrutinizing him. As was my routine with all ghosts, I was trying to place him in one of the two categories: 'Trouble' or 'Not'.

He looked up at me with big blue eyes the color of robin eggs. They were as expressive as only a child's eyes could be. His hair was a curly brown mess, the locks so tightly coiled and lush that the overall effect was like that of a hypnotizing spiral pattern. Flicking a glance over his scrawny figure, I decided he wasn't any trouble. At least for now.

"What's your name?" I asked.

"Jack," he answered succinctly. "You?"

"I'm Suze," I answered, sitting down on the bed beside him. "How old are you?"

"I was eight when I"— at this point, his dark pink full lips distinctly turned down at the corners— "died," he said.

I had long since made myself immune to the unhappiness that ghosts felt when they talked about their death. Call me cold-hearted, but sympathy just doesn't work on ghosts. It makes them rely more on your aid to help them move on…and if you show any signs of failing to do so…the reaction is ten times worse. Believe me, I've learnt the hard way.

But the little boy sitting in front of me looked so miserable that I couldn't help but reach out and pat his shoulder reassuringly. He had every right to be upset. He'd been so young when he'd died, so full of life. Please, I'd had ghosts of seventy-eight year old chubby little ladies come and complain that the reason they weren't moving on was that they were too young to die!

"So Jack, tell me, how exactly did you…die?" I asked carefully, fully prepared for the usual hysterics.

It didn't come. Instead, he solemnly looked at me and said, "In a fire."

I winced inwardly. It must have been horrifying and terribly painful for the boy. Still, he had said it without making a tantrum or creating a dramatic saga of the incident. Not even a tear in sight. I looked at him admiringly.

"Oh," I replied, trying to keep my tone as light and business-like as possible. "How long ago was this?"

"Two years ago," he said, fiddling with his short pale fingers.

Suddenly, a light shiver ran through my length. Trying to ignore the sudden premonition that I was coming onto something here, I said, "Hmm. So…where did this fire take place?"

Looking directly at me, Jack answered, "Here."

I drew a breath sharply, looking at him hard. "H-here, did you say? Two years ago?"

He nodded, hopping off the bed and wandering around my room. "This room's so boring," he complained. "You don't have _anything_ in here! Just books and magazines and nail polish and…_girly_ stuff."

If I were paying attention to him, I would have pointed out that I _was_ a girl thereby accounting for the 'girly stuff' in my room, but my mind was elsewhere.

The librarian, Ms. Rayner's, voice was echoing through my head: _"…something happened in that house of yours a couple of years back and it was very closely connected to the de Silvas…"_

A horrible feeling was dawning on me as I walked over to the open bay window and gazed out at the faint outlines of the austere curtain of trees in the distance. With another flash, my brain recovered another memory of something I had read in one of the newspapers during that morning at the library. Of an article which, then, I had just skimmed over.

Slowly turning to the boy-ghost exploring my room behind me, I said, "Jack?"

"Yeah?"

"What's your surname?"

Without turning to look at me, he answered offhandedly, "Slater. My name is Jack Slater."

--

**A/N: It's rather short, I know. But I wanted to end it there. :) **

**PS: If any of you didn't notice, in Chapter 4 there was a mention of 'a Slaters' house burning down.' My little clue to the de Silva mystery and the article that Suze was thinking of in this chapter. :)**


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